Besides, the advance from the memoir paid for Coach House. Beau offered to rebuild and cover everything. I couldn’t accept. I didn’t want to be controlled by or beholden to a man again. He wouldn’t have held it against me, but I didn’t want it, down at my core.

I wanted this for myself.

I need to be independent.

Well, now I am. Now I’m alone in Coach House with my daughter while a strange man lurks outside. I haven’t gone back to the window to see if he’s gone. Part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me would rather retreat. Pull down all the shades and pretend we’re not home.

But I’m done hiding.

Done.

“What I mean is that we have to be on the lookout for ourselves. I’m always going to protect you the best I can, but there are times you might be alone. I want you to know what to do. You don’t have to speak to strangers, even if they ask you questions. You come find me right away. Or someone else you trust.”

“Like Uncle Mateo?” she asks.

“Like Uncle Mateo,” I agree. “Or Uncle Beau. Or Jane. Your teacher at school. We need to look out for ourselves, and part of that is knowing when to ask for help.”

“If someone comes to talk to me, I should ask for help,” Paige repeats. She puts her rocks out on the table. Five of them in one fist. “Is that what you do when someone comes to talk to you and you don’t know them?”

“Sometimes I do.”

Sometimes, like when I came out of the courthouse and let Mateo usher me through that shitshow. But I’m spinning another pleasant memory to Paige. I’m giving her the neat dichotomy of stranger danger vs. safe person. People we know aren’t always safe. Rhys was a prime example.

Paige has eaten the entire top of her muffin, leaving the bottom in its wrapper. “Can I have another one?” Her blue eyes light up. My chest unclenches. I go to get Paige a second muffin and peek out into the yard. There’s no sign of the reporter anymore. No cars out there, either.

I’ve been at the mercy of a man before. I’ve been at the mercy of his money. I won’t be at the mercy of this asshole, or anyone else. Asking for help is one thing. Relying on a man for safety and survival? No.

I have to stand on my own. It’s the only way I can live.

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mateo Garza

Not only is my agent being deliberately stupid about this, not only has my five minutes with Emily Rochester become national news, but they went to her house.